University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

—Part of the Park.
The whole stage. Drop View of the Great Exhibition in the distance; visitors walking about, who gradually clear off.
Enter Freya, Narma, and Snowtra, in morning dresses, L.
Fre.
And now, my dears, thanks to the spirit's aid,
We have found out the plot these—gods have laid,
Who would have thought it?

Nar.
I couldn't have believed it.

Sno.
Such artfulness. One could not have conceived it.

Fre.
Disguised as men they're wandering up and down,
Taking their pleasure everywhere in town,
While we are left without a man at all
To hail an omnibus or hold a shawl.
Ought it to be endured?

Nar.
It ought not, true,
But what can three poor helpless women do?
A helpless woman! Word of aggravation—
There is not such a thing in all creation.
We'll help ourselves, don't fear!

Sno.
But let's take care
Not to say more to them than they will bear.

Fre.
Snowtra, I understand you. Narma here,
Has, like myself, nothing that she can fear;
We're married, so defy our lords.

Nar.
Of course.

Sno.
Yet angry lords sue sometimes for divorce.

Fre.
No—while that luxury costs a thousand pounds,
It keeps the men's vile temper within bounds!

Nar.
We've made our minds up, and declare for war.

Nar.
You, Snowtra, having set your cap at Thor,
Fear to offend him, female; vengeance wreaking?
Would I—Oh, would I show myself so sneaking?

Sno.
The phrase is vulgar, and the charge unjust.

(bursts into tears)
Nar.
(tauntingly)
Tears—pretty dear—she's paid to lay the dust.

Sno.
(tauntingly)
It's natural that one shouldn't care to keep
A husband who spends all his time in sleep.

Nar.
Oh, is it, miss? Your knowledge is but small,
Better a sleepy spouse than none at all.

Fre.
You silly girls, what foolish taunts to throw,
Can't you unite against the common foe?
Kiss, and be friends, my dears.

Nar.
Mamma, you're right,
Snowtra, I did not mean to speak in spite.

Sno.
You're pardoned, dear, I'd add a kiss unto it,
Were there one envious man to see me do it.

Fre.
Now for revenge!

Enter Spirit.
Spi.
A lady spoke, I'm sure,
Framing a plot your faithless friends to cure?
I'm at your service.

Fre.
But may we rely
Upon your truth, and that you're not a spy?

Spi.
Spy? nonsense! I'll stand by you, never fear,
Now look! your lords will presently be here.
Each is in costume, and they trust your eyes,
Though you should meet, won't see through their disguise.
And now they're from connubial bondage free,
They mean to have what people call a spree.

Fre.
Thor's single—Balder's young,

Nar.
(indignantly)
And so's his wife.

Fre.
But as for Odin, at his time of life—
Talking of “sprees,” with one foot in the—gout,
Excuse the coarseness, but I'll serve him out.

Spi.
In other days the remedy was easy,
A new spouse, if the old one didn't please ye.
But husbands now are scarce, the prudent way
Is, patch up what you've got, as best you may.

Fre.
And pray what special sin does my old sinner
Select—a night at cards, a Blackwall dinner?

Spi.
Why no, not that, his money and digestion
Are safe, but—

Fre.
Ha! sir, you evade my question.
Speak, will you?

Spi.
(gruffly)
Would it give you pain to learn,
His taste takes—quite—an—amatory turn?

Fre.
I'll—I'll—I'll—yes—no—I'll, I'll—never mind.

(walks about)
Nar.
(anxiously)
Dear Balder never could be so unkind.

Spi.
If anything I think he's rather worse,
Just now he met a baby and its nurse.

Nar.
(eagerly)
Yes, he likes babies. Well? (aside)
I'm all on pins,

Spi.
He chucked the child under its various chins.

Nar.
No harm in that.

Spi.
No, and declared it fairer
Than any child he'd seen, so kissed the bearer.

Nar.
He did, and not one thunderbolt descended
To punish him—my dream of life is ended.

(walks about)
Sno.
I hardly like after these tales of woe,
To ask what Thor is doing.

Spi.
Thor, don't know.
Fresh from the new “Symposium” there, I met him—
Looking at some one, drinking has upset him.
'Twas not the poor god's fault, you mustn't blame him,
Though used to “Nectar,” Soyer's overcame him.
You'd hardly know him, reeling through the streets,
Winking at every pretty girl he meets.

Sno.
Farewell, good manners, since his love's a mockery,
Geese have been cooked ere now—I'll study cookery.

(walks about)
Spi.
A sporting picture, one that should be seen,
In Mr. Ackerman's Green Magazine.
Here are two wives both coming to the scratch,
And Snowtra clearly walking for a match.

Chorus, Three Goddesses, Air—“A Poor Simple Maiden am I.” (sung with violent gestures of anger)

Sno.
Ah! don't you hear that laughing. They're in view.

Goddesses.
Away! away!

Fre.
(to Spirit)
We've settled what to do.

Exeunt Goddesses hastily, L.
Enter Odin, Thor, and Balder, arm in arm, laughing, R.
Odin.
Now, boys, we'll separate; each one take his way;
Take my advice too—be discreetly gay.
Good men are happy. Knowledge comes from reading.
Evil communications spoil good breeding.
Prudence commands respect. Delay brings danger.
A horse eats off his head at rack and manger.
Bounty ensures esteem. A bird in hand
Is worth two birds not caught, you understand.
Virtue's a sure foundation, build upon it—
(aside, looking off)
Hang it, I've quite lost sight of that pink bonnet!

Exit, L.
Thor.
(drunk)
These earthly wines must be adulterated—
I almost think I feel ob—ob—fuscated.

Bal.
Whether or not it's parting from one's wife,
I never felt so brisk in all my life.

(sits on bench, L.)
Spi.
Well, gods, how are you?

Thor.
Gods, sir! what d'ye say?
I'll knock your head off if you talk that way.
I think you're drunk, sir. It's an awful sign
To see a young man overcome by wine.
Stand still, sir, will you? or I'll lay you flat;
And don't keep walking round and round like that.

Spi.
You know me, Thor?

Thor.
(fiercely)
No, nor don't want to know you!
Pray tell me if there's anything I owe you?
Nothing? I thought as much. Sir, how d'ye dare
To stop a gentleman? Stand still, sir—there!
If there's one sight more horrid than another,
That sight's a drunkard. Make a point to smother
Your passion for the bottle—cure such cravings—
Study George Cruickshank's excellent engravings.
The world turns round—

Spi.
More proof of your discerning;
The Polytechnic people show it turning.
Thor, you must know me.

Thor.
(becomes maudlin)
Oh, my heart will burst!
My boy, I knew you from the very first.
I love you—'pon my soul, my boy, I do.
You don't believe it, but I swear it's true.
We should all love each other—what a place
The world would be if that could be the case—
Loving each other like the innocent lambs
Sporting about beside their blessed dams.
Yes, I said dams, sir! I don't care a jot.
(fiercely)
Do you believe I love you, sir, or not
Tell me the truth, sir, without fear or dread,
And if you say you don't, I'll break your head.

Spi.
A lady wants to see you.

Thor.
(laughing cunningly)
Oh, no doubt.
You sly young dog, take care what you're about.
A lady—well, it would not be a crime,
(conceitedly)
There's many a lady's liked me in her time;
This leg's not bad—this waist's not very thick—
But, manner traps them—manner does the trick.
Copy my manner and you'll win the day.
Where is the lady, you young rascal, eh?

Spi.
Coming. On yonder bench take up your station—
Spare her the pain of the first declaration.

Thor.
Bless her, I will. I'll tell her that I see
No wonder in her madly loving me.
One should be delicate, discreet, and civil—
These benches are as slippery as the devil.

(goes to bench, R., and is soon asleep)
Spi.
(to Balder)
What are you doing, Balder?

Bal.
Why, sir, waiting
To gain an object very captivating.
I want a place where I can take my seat,
Free from all bustle, trouble, noise, and heat,
Be just amused with what goes on around one,
But without sharing in it, and I've found one—
The man's to meet me here about it, soon.

Spi.
Pray may I ask what man?

Bal.
The Man in the Moon.

Spi.
I see, but if I read your riddle right,
That House won't answer your description quite.
Some years ago your bargain had been fair,
But they're beginning now to know me there,
And where the Spirit of the Age is seen
The idle men are few and far between.
Do you see yon monster building?

(Houses of Parliament in the distance)
Bal.
It appears
Unfinished.

Spi.
Aye, and will be so for years.
That's where you want to go.

Bal.
And how get in?

Spi.
Some men do that by brass, and some by tin;
The first requires hard work, the next hard cash—
The latter is your plan—but don't be rash.
Folks may get in with tickets made of gold,
But if the ticket's cancelled, folks are sold.

Bal.
Yes, but I'm told that there are ways—

Spi.
There are—
Direct to Newgate, from the Commons' bar.
Whether with crowded sail a slaver runs
Swift from an English cruiser's shattering guns,
Or home-bred knavery meaner man-traps tries—
Kidnapping's awkward work in English eyes.
But I've a notion (aside)
yes, I think 'twill do—
The rising moon gets a rise out of you.

Exit, R.
Bal.
There's no repose about that restless spirit,
Vires eundo, as they say, acquirit.

Enter Odin, L.
Odin.
I can't meet that pink bonnet, high or low,
It's owner's a coquette to treat me so.

Enter a large Party of both sexes, with tickets; in costumes of all ranks and nations; some of the men with moustaches, others with Oriental caps; a Workman with a brown paper cap; one in a blue blouse; they are led on by the Spirit of the Age; Thor comes up.

Chorus (as they come on), 1st verse of Thor's song.
In the merry month of May
Stranger crowds to England come;
Marching all, we're happy to say
To better tunes than the sound of the drum.

Odin.
Misguided creatures, whither do ye stray?

Spi.
To yonder palace, and I lead the way.
Come with us.

Odin.
I! The company I see
Is—you'll excuse me—far too mixed for me.

Spi.
Yet it's the “Prince's Mixture.” Your rebuff
Shows you by no means up to social snuff.

Odin.
(moodily)
The good old days!

Spi.
A phrase, with nothing in it—
Surely the world gets older every minute;
Wiser and happier—

Odin.
No, the thought is sad;
These are bad times.

Spi.
The best we've ever had.
Ask yonder workman.

Odin.
Come, friend, tell me true,
How do these boasted times agree with you?
How go the things the labourer wants to buy?

Work.
Sir, we've cheap food—and know the reason why.

Odin.
The country's ruined—they'll soon feel it, won't they?

Spi.
The Excise and Customs look like ruin, don't they?
John Bull likes grumbling, but his ledger mends it,
Shewing he makes no end of cash—and spends it.

Odin.
That's a French rival I see standing there!

Work.
Sir, he's my friend and brother.

Frenchman.
C'est mon frére.

(they shake hands)
Work.
Yonder's a watch we wish that you should see:
He chased the case, the works were made by me.

Thor.
Ha! a French watch with English works, old cock,
Will quickly show all Europe what's o'clock.

Spi.
Friends from all corners of the earth have come,
Our cousin Germans are of course at home.
Our great glass beehive ample cells supplies,
Alike for Attic bees and Spanish flies.
We've Sandwich Islanders and sons of Ham,
And what's three thousand miles to uncle Sam?
His seven-leagued boots cleared at a nine-day's leap,
The ditch we used to call the Atlantic deep.
The more the merrier. England's flag unfurled,
Welcomes the friendly flags of all the world.
Come with us to the palace.

Odin.
It's outrageous,
But sociality must be contagious.

(they go off singing the verse of Thor's song with which they came on; waving hats, handkerchiefs, &c.
Bal.
(rises from bench)
That row's detestable. I'd make it death
For any snob to speak above his breath.

Enter Snowtra, veiled, she comes up to him.
Sno.
(confidentially)
You are expecting some one. I am here,
Instead of that same person—

Bal.
Well, my dear.

Sno.
Business is business.

Bal.
Is it? I don't doubt it.
It's deuced little that I know about it.

Sno.
You want a seat in—hush! you know the figure,

Bal.
If so, I'm an unmitigated nigger.
Ma'am, I know nothing.

Sno.
Cautious! well, that's right.

(holds up three fingers)
Bal.
Three fingers—yes, ma'am, they seem very white.

Two Policemen and Spirit come on and watch.
Sno.
Three thousand. Do you take?

Bal.
No, I do not.

Sno.
I said three thousand.

Bal.
But three thousand what?

Sno.
Lodged at the banker's—sovereigns are the best—
That's all you know, your friends will do the rest.
If they're so naughty as to bribe or treat,
You didn't do it, so you'll keep your seat.

Bal.
Still I don't think I understand you well,
What do you bring to market?

Sno.
(with cry of fishwoman)
Votes to sell.

Song, Snowtra, Air, “I'm afloat, I'm afloat.”
I've a vote, I've a vote, and your price shall decide,
Whether you or your rival, the nation shall guide.
I've a conscience elastic, from prejudice free,
I've a vote, I've a vote, so fork over to me.
I heed not the oath, and I dread not the law,
No fear of a check, while a cheque you can draw.
I'm a patriot waiting a patriot's fee,
I've a vote, I've a vote, so fork over to me.

Bal.
I thought that ladies had no votes, ma'am.

Sno.
Pity!
They sell 'em somehow—ask the last committe.

Bal.
I see—

(he pays her some sovereigns)
1 Off.
And so do I.

(they seize him; she runs off)
2 Off.
A thorough rascal.

1 Off.
Thorough.
Conspiring to bribe some virtuous borough;
Off with him.

2 Off.
To the treadmill for a century.
“M. P.” indeed—yes—Millbank Penitentiary.

(they drag him off, R.)
Spi.
Corruption's jacket's better for such dustings—
We'll have no golden stairs to English hustings.
I'll bail him out, though.

Exit, R.
Enter Thor, making love to Narma, veiled.
Thor.
Come, my dearest creature,
Remove that veil and show each lovely feature.

Nar.
(affectedly)
You men are all so false.

Thor.
Don't say all, pray.

Nar.
You know you don't mean half the things you say.

Thor.
All, and much more. I love you to distraction—
I'll swear it, if that's any satisfaction.

Nar.
(aside)
It would be if my Balder only heard—
(he tries to take her hand)
I won't allow it—don't be so absurd.
Why, you're a stranger to me, and you know
We girls can't be too prudent.

Thor.
Can't you, though?
I'm glad of that. My love, my name is—a—Brown—
I'm Captain in the Guards—well known on town;
I'm rich, my drag and horses are the thing,
My cab's about the neatest in the ring,
As you shall say. We'll go and buy a dress,
Or bracelet, just my passion to express,
And then I'll drive you down the road to dine—
Richmond—or Kew—or Greenwich—choose your line—
Believe me I adore you, and I'm your's
For life (aside)
which means but while the whim endures.

Nar.
(aside)
Such baits may do for milliners, dear Thor—
I'm not the sort of thing you take me for.

Thor.
I take you for an angel, both in face
And feelings—so, permit me one embrace.

Balder is brought on by Spirit.
Bal.
My wife, my wife—the unfraternal buffer.
(gives Thor a tremendous slap in the face)
Sir, that is conduct which I will not not suffer.

Thor.
Ha! a vile blow.
(tucks up his sleeves)
Look out—my first one, two
Will certainly be one too much for you.

(falls into attitude)
Bal.
(tucks up his sleeves)
I'm no great dab at fists or the cold iron,
But now you've roused the Scandinavian lion.

(they spar a little)
Spi.
You foolish lads, remember where you are—
We're much too near that Crystal for a spar.

Thor.
No, 'twill remind this inconsiderate elf
He made an exhibition of himself.
Come on. (they scuffle)


Enter Freya, beating on Odin with her bonnet.
Fre.
So, sir, I'll teach you morals.

Odin.
Freya, stop—
What have I done to merit such a whop?

Fre.
He tried to kiss me.

Odin.
Well, upon my life
It's something when a man mayn't kiss his wife.

Fre.
Ha! monster, but you didn't think 'twas me
That you were making love to.

Odin.
That may be.

Fre.
(bitterly)
He put his arm so fondly round my waist
And whispered—

Odin.
Yes, small credit to my taste.

Fre.
But I will be revenged, you brute, I will.

(flies at him)
Thor.
(to Balder)
Come on, I say?
Snowtra rushes in and throws her arms round Balder.
No, you shan't treat him ill.

Nar.
What's that? Her arms about my husband's neck.

(throws off veil)
Thor.
What, Narma—here's an unexpected check—
Almost checkmate.

Nar.
No, there's my mate, (to Snowtra)
I say,
How dare you touch my husband, come away!

Sno.
How dare you flirt with him, that's pretty, truly,
Married too!—Take your poppy.

(pushes Balder to her)
Nar.
Take your bully.

(pushes Thor to her)
(they all use violent gestures to each other)
Everybody
at once.
I'll tell you what it is—it seems to me,
You're all no better than you ought to be.

Spi.
This state of things admits of one solution,
Earth's air don't suit a heavenly constitution.
Take my advice, take too the earliest train,
And get to Scandinavia back again.
Do penance there, like hermits, saints, or dervises,
Until some other author wants your services.
I'll make it easy for you. Clouds, descend,
And with a chorus let our trifle end.

(clouds come down as Spirit speaks, and the Orchestra plays, “We fly by Night;” suddenly clouds rise and discover the Gods, as in SCENE I.; coloured fire)

Chorus—“Long live the King, Gustavus III.”

Curtain.